Welcome to the Duo Maxwell Show
by madampeach
Summary: Just another day on the job for Duo Maxwell, folks. But maybe today's a little worse, a little different, and ... a little better? Duo's injured but he wont stop/cant stop until he braids his hair. 1x2. Language.


[Warnings: Language]

I'm tired. My arms are tired. It's like my body can't be bothered to pump proper blood to my lifted limps and gravity is winning over the blood molecules. If I could just get my hair braided then I'd collapse and forget about the whole world for the rest of the day – the rest of the week – however long it takes for this to pass and my body to recover.

Yeah, it's not that my body can't be bothered, it's that I've exhausted my strength and I've got nothin' to go on. Damn.

I'm muttering curses under my breath and fumbling numb, unresponsive digits around my ridiculously long chestnut locks. Yeah, that's right. Even I think my hair's a bit too long but so what? Sue me. I like it. And I have my reasons.

End of discussion.

"Shi- ow, ow, ow."

My arms hit the carpeted floor with a dull thump and I'm hissing in pain. Duo Maxwell has just given up. That's right, folks. Get your tickets and line up to see the show. Duo Maxwell, Shinigami, pilot of Gundam Deathscythe, can't fucking braid his goddamn hair. Not today … not right now … I'm just … so … tired.

My shoulders are slumping – vision blurring – whole frame crumbling over itself. If it weren't for the bed I've got my back to I'd be sprawled on the floor right now.

Hmm … but sprawling on the floor sounds like such a good idea. Maybe I _will_ close my eye for a minute, yeah? A little nap and I'm sure to be back to full Duo-power. Right and ready for the day!

Then I can braid my monstrous mane and get proper sleep.

Though I really shouldn't be sleeping right now. Who knows, I may have a concussion. Actually, I likely _do_ have a concussion. And we all know, kiddies, that ya' shouldn't fall asleep when yer concussed cus' ya' just might not wake back up.

An' that's bad.

Alright, let try this again. I straighten myself as much as I possibly can. But at the same time I'm hissing at the sting at my side. I'm not even gonna look down to see if that wound is reopened or not. Let it bleed. Like fuck I care.

It's just a nick anyway. A flesh wound. Nothin' serious. I'm pretty sure.

Hah. Guess what? I'm looking at my shaking hands trying to make their way past my shoulders and they're just not doin' it. When did I start shaking? They were clammy and blotchy before I got out of the shower but they weren't shaking – much. Now I'm not even connected to them anymore. Not mentally, I mean. It's like I'm watching them move and they're not my own limbs. I guess I feel like I'm outside of myself. But I'm not. I'm trapped in this hazy, lazy, daisy … crazy …

Oh man! I totally just zoned out! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Don't zone out, Maxwell. Don't zone out. Don't zone out.

I don't have a problem with dying. I don't. But I don't have a problem with livin' either. Ya' know? I'm prepared to loose my life every minute of every fucking day. Even when I'm asleep! But I ain't ready to snuff it just like that. Or like this – sitting on the floor of some safe-house, I don't even know where I am – weakened and bleeding. And I don't think anyone is likely to find me for at least a couple a' days if not more. So, that means dying equals a no no. I wanna die somewhere on the battlefield, ya know? Like, right in the middle of a real juicy fight where I can take a handful of the bad guys with me in a wild, fiery explosion. Ha ha! Yeah, that sounds about right. That's Duo Maxwell-style. A glorious 'kaboom' in pieces that ya' can't even identify.

"Stop talking nonsense."

I'm not talking nonsense! That's what I want! An' I don't think it's too much to ask considering all I've sacrificed to this goddamn world!

"Duo … "

I fuckin' deserve to go off in a flurry of fire and loud noise!

I'm yelling. I swear I'm yelling.

"Duo … you … "

An' I fucking well will do just fucking that!

"You deserve better than that."

I can't stop.

Duo Maxwell ain't gonna die today! Not here! Not right now!

"No, you're not."

I really can't stop.

"You're not going to die here."

Damn fucking right!

Help me.

Damn fucking right I'm not! If only … if only …

If only I could braid my fucking hair!

"I'll braid it for you. Ok?"

Suddenly I'm aware of hands – gentle hands – touching my neck and shoulders. They're cradling me forward and positioning me around. They're combing the tangles of my hair.

I'm blinking my eyes. My vision is slowly re-establishing. I'm not looking at the inside of my eyelids anymore; I'm looking at a long lean leg wearing yellow sneakers. The leg disappears somewhere behind me. I can just see the hem of Heero's black spandex shorts. Where am I?

"Heero?"

My voice is horse like I've been shouting. Have I been shouting?

"Don't worry," the steady baritone comes from behind me. "I'm braiding your hair."

I waver a little on the spot but I'm too stunned to drop off again. Heero's braiding my hair.

He's braiding it like he knows how. How would Heero know how to braid? Maybe … maybe he just picked it up from seeing me do it? Yeah. He's observant like that. He's braiding it so gently. He must understand that it means something to me. He's … observant like _that_ too.

"Hey, Hee-chan"

"Hn?"

My hair is being pulled back into that reassuring tightness at the nape of my neck. It really is reassuring.

"Thanks for braiding my hair."

"…"

"Hn," he finally says.

Yeah, Hee-chan understands

- - - - - - - - - -

"Oh thank god, he stopped hallucinating." Quatre stopped clutching the font of his shirt in a twisted death grip and sighed a breath of relief.

Trowa nodded in affirmation but his eyes remained on the two figures beyond the bedroom door. Duo, with violet eyes rounded - large and innocent looking, sat like a large child or teddy bear, his hands supporting his weight. Heero sat behind him; braiding long, long stands with the same attention he gave to maintaining Wing's primary engine.

The worst of it seemed to have passed. They'd gotten there just in time. Really, Heero had gotten there just in time.

There was a faint click from the bathroom as Wufei flicked the lights off after having inspected it.

"So, he piloted his Gundam here, landed and hid it safely, punched in the correct safety code, showered and bandaged his wound … all while concussed and experiencing sever blood loss." Wufei sounded only mildly impressed, which in Wufei-ese meant 'holy shit!'

"Yeah," Trowa affirmed. "But it looks like his wound needs re-stitching."

"Heero will take care of that," Quatre touched a delicate hand to Trowa's arm. He smiled faintly over his shoulder at a final glance into the room before the three of them went to wait elsewhere. Heero was tying the elastic over the tasselled end of a meter long braid – all his concentration in the task. Duo was looking at Heero with overly wide, awed eyes.

"Does Yuy keep such close tabs on all of us?" Wufei questioned as they distanced the room.

"I don't think so," Trowa replied curtly. Quatre giggled.

- - -

A/N:

So … most people love writing Duo but honestly, I find him the hardest -___-;; I think that's because he has the potential to be so complex – too complex.

What do you think his braid means? (To him or overall) Seriously. I mean … it certainly is possible that the creators just designed the character to look cool with the awesome long braid (so yum X3 ) but lets just pretend it does have a meaning – it does represent something to Duo or to the GW universe overall. What do you think?

I don't even think I know if I know what I think -___-;; (suuuure, that statement makes sense. Trust me 8D! lol)

[Edit] THANK YOU for all the reviews TTuTT xoxo you guys –wipes tears- you guys are so great! I did know about episode zero already. I thought about it and I think BladesMaxwell-GoddessofDeath and Syngi hit the nail on the head. That's exactly how I feel about it

p.s. who here has read 'Freeport'?

[Edit] I brought this up cus I just finished re-reading it and think it's damn awesome and wanted to spread the word! Also, it comes back to the idea that Duo is damn complex. Maldoror really has a knack for grasping that.


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